Through the Screen

amidst the hot vapour rising rapidly in the small bathroom, abel can feel his thoughts evaporating as well, not taking away the pain in his chest but soothing the dull ache that had been prevailing in every part of his body. the muffled sobs and strained breaths have now turned into mere fog, sticking to every reflective surface in the ceramic room and plastering themselves onto white tiles.

the shower is turning colder by the second, the vermillion hue that stained his back when the water was punishingly hot was now fading away into a pale pink, soothing the welters with the lukewarm liquid sliding down his back.

it had been six hours he stepped into the cheapest hotel he could find, a small lumbered room with a single bed, accompanied by a medium sized cherry desk and two worn out armchairs facing towards the smallest flatscreen tv. the sheets that smelled like detergent were now holding warm tears of regret, scattered thoughts that wracked his lean frame and imprints of fists balled in agony.

for the first four hours he couldn't bring himself to do anything but pathetically sob, trying to stop himself from thrashing the small hotel room that was going to be his companion for the next few days. the image of noah—the way he was completely heartbroken once he got to know what abel had done, his emotions expressed wildly in the expression on his face and the fading colour of his eyes—was something that abel couldn't blink away from behind his eyelids, the effect of his betrayal was all abel could see when he closed his eyes.

smallest of steps towards a healthy relationship, trying to understand each other better, trying to keep the irrational thoughts under control, trying

sand castle of their relationship with an angry wave of mistakes, overruling all the

why his father was missing on christmas eve. he has been selfishly hoping that noah doesn't tell adrian anything,

his waist, the lukewarm drops of water in his hair turning cold as soon as they drip down his shoulders, brown strands coiled into a stringy mess. his cheeks hold a

the bathroom, wet footsteps staining the cool wooden floor, and he wipes his damp hands on the towel before increasing the temperature of the room and slumping in the tiny bed without putting on his clothes. his wet hair soak the limp pillow as soon as he rests